Burn the Midnight Oil
by Baldur5
Summary: This is my first submission here, so bear with me. "Burn the Midnight Oil", set between Cataclysm and Mists of Pandaria, follows a small expedition sent out from Stormwind to investigate strange activity in the Redridge Mountains. Along the way, they encounter agents of old enemies, traitors within the ranks, and two powerful beings intent on destroying one another.


21

Burn the Midnight Oil

_Note to the reader: this story takes place in the fictional world of Azeroth, as seen in the computer game, __World of Warcraft__. All characters are original creations or original representations of existing characters. Enjoy._

Let me begin my tale by simply saying that what I am about to tell you can only be classified as a nightmare, albeit one that I and my companions can describe as helpful as of some use to the mortal races of this fair world. Nightmares are all around us, they haunt us in our unwaking hours, and they insist of following our minds through our dreamscapes. But sometimes those nightmares are real, and more powerful than our imagination can comprehend.

And sometimes those nightmares are real.

My name is Alexander Talbot, a Gilnean and a victim of the worgen curse that plighted our land years ago. I am also a priest, a healer, a follower of The Light that guides us through this world constantly under attack by creatures that wish only for darkness and destruction.

After the Cataclysm which shook this planet and forced my people out into the world, and after we rejoined the Alliance at the behest of the Night Elves, I decided to travel to Stormwind City and make my new home there. I hold no ill will against the Night Elves, but I am more comfortable living within high stone walls rather than the giant tree in which they make their home.

I was one of the many adventurers who joined the armies that fought against Deathwing the Destroyer, and am responsible for taking just as many lives as I saved. The Light can also be a weapon, but I take solace in the fact that I am justified in my use of it. I share this viewpoint with a dear friend I met during my time on the front lines. A Human paladin by the name of Aberline Wolfsbane.

A worgen and a wolf killer does seem like an unlikely combination, and Aberline was initially displeased with our acquaintance. However, we had journeyed to the Twilight Highlands in the same unit, and each had our turn at saving each other's life.

Those experiences cemented our friendship.

And now I find myself on the road exiting Stormwind alongside my paladin friend, heading for some obscure outpost on the corner of the Redridge Mountains, at the mouth of the Nazferiti River. The only information given to us by Kin Varian Wrynn was that the outpost had been established at the beginning of our war against Deathwing, and that there has been no contact in two weeks, despite the close proximity to the inhabitant of Redridge.

He also informed us that the locals were refusing to go near the outpost due to its proximity to Deadwind Pass. Aberline probably knows the truth, and I have my suspicions about the true nature of the outpost. But my job on this mission is not to ask questions, but to investigate and, God forbid, heal any injured we encounter there.

With us are two others, representatives from Ironforge and the Exodar. A gnome mage who goes by the name of Mekka Bronzebolt, and a draenei warrior whose name was never given. Aberline simply calls him The Draenei. We were supposed to be further accompanied by a Night Elf druid, making our party five strong, but she was poisoned and killed last night. We were ordered t proceed with the mission.

Aberline believes it will take us four days on horseback, as our larger, Gilnean mounts are unused to the terrain. But we need these horses from my homeland in order to reach the outpost at the last leg of our journey, as it is situated upon a large cliff, and Gilnean mountain horses are accustomed to climbing through foothills and steep ledges.

The gnome, Mekka, I observe, is dressed in deep red robes lined with what looks like a coarse black thread. I believe him to be a practitioner of fire magic, a particularly volatile form of magic. I have never felt at ease traveling with a fire mage.

The draenei has fashioned himself with an assortment of armor, mostly of a dark blue, and all plate. Two long swords, by my standards at least, adorn his back. Both appear to be decorated in all fashion of jewels and trinkets. I expect they were very expensive, but do not doubt their power. I have seen the most ridiculous looking blades slice through the hardest armor.

And then there is my companion, Aberline. He wears the familiar silver armor which marks him as a paladin of the Silver Hand, in service to the Stormwind Army. It is far from pristine though; multitudes of dents and scratches, marking all the times that armor had saved his life and made my talents, thankfully, unnecessary. Strapped to his back is his mighty war hammer, fashioned from pure obsidium. Black as the darkness of the Twisting Nether. There is no ornament on the hammer; even the line from handle to shaft is unclear to the casual eye. But Aberline is so used to handling it, that the hammer has become an extension of himself.

I have seen its power and have frequently suggested that Aberline name it. But he is not sentimental in that fashion.

As for myself, I have dressed in the simple white vestments of my order, with my cursed stave, The Soulkeeper, strapped to my backside. I discovered this staff accidentally during a skirmish I was involved in during the Alliance battles in the Twilight Highlands.

Aberline and I were involved in a three way battle between the Horde, Alliance, and Twilight's Hammer cult for control of a river. A source of fresh water that ran between our three encampments. I let my wolf loose for the first time in months, and utilized my extension knowledge of healing to rain destruction down on our attackers. I saw a worgen of the cult run off with the Soulkeeper on his back, and deduced that he was returning to his base for reinforcement. I and an Orc gave chase. We were so concerned with preventing a surge of Twilight's Hammer cultists that we exchanged a silent vow of cooperation.

We were able to corner the other worgen before he could reach his companions. Then we realized that this was a trap. The worgen used the power of the Soulkeeper to slay my new Orc friend and, before my eyes, the staff consumed his soul.

My wolf flew into a rage at seeing his new pack mate killed, and proceeded to rip apart the other worgen with its claws and fangs.

And then I became cursed twofold. As it turned out, the Soulkeeper creates a symbiotic relationship with its owner. Its owner being the person who kills its previous owner. So I now find myself connected to this infernal staff through a cruel twist of fate.

However, I have digressed too much and driven myself away from the story. You must forgive me; I seem to have an aversion to this particular tale.

My companions—Aberline, Mekka, and the draenei—found ourselves following the road from Stormwind on a four day journey to the outskirts of Deadwind Pass.

A week prior to our journey, a faceless one, a servant of the old gods, rose from the sea and entered Stormwind Harbor. Its purpose was so great that it ignored the sailors around it and only acknowledged its surroundings when the guards of Stormwind engaged it in combat. It was slain easily as it refused to fight back and attempted to stay its course towards the city.

I am unsure that this has any relation to the mission at hand. Only that it rose from the sea which the Nazferiti River empties into.

Ever since the death of Deathwing, we have let down our guard, sure of our safety in the immediate future. Only the conflict with the Horde looms on our horizon. But even that will not reach the sheer brutality of our battles against the Lich King and that infernal dragon. Mortal races have a code of conduct for war.

We are more vulnerable now than we have ever been.

As we traveled on our first day's journey, I became restless in my saddle; sure that something was bound to happen. My wolf's senses pricked at the slightest sound, yet my human eyes simply could not perceive anything. This continued for some hours.

Finally, out of the corner of my eye, there was movement. A black streak against the surrounding greenery of Elwynn Forest. I pointed this out to Aberline.

"I believe we are being followed."

"Of course we are." His face remained stoic. "Did you really think a well armed group such as ours could pass through this area unnoticed? We are attracting attention, especially with these beasts carrying us."

"Who is behind us? Do they mean to impede us?"

"I believe they do. Why else would a squad of Blackrock Orcs bother with our group of four? And yes, I believe they are Blackrocks. They are the only enemy force nearby, and ever since their defeat in Redridge, there have been small bands roving the surrounding forests, scavenging and ambushing travelers."

"Do you honestly think they will attack us?"

"Yes, I do. Come nightfall they will most likely encircle us and press their attack. But not to worry, my friend. My hammer is anxious to taste their blood. And by the looks of it, your staff has not been fed recently."

I became silent in my seat again. The sun was falling behind the horizon of trees, leading us closer to the ambush Aberline seemed so certain of. I hoped it would not happen, despite my staff's wish to consume the life energies of my enemies.

The draenei, who had taking point up until this moment, motioned for us to halt.

"Aberline, they are just up ahead. Earlier than anticipated."

I saw what he meant. A wagon had been drawn across the road and set afire. The Blackrocks were ready to begin their assault.

We tensed upon our steeds. Aberline drew his hammer, grasping the handle with both fists, the draenei pulled his two swords, and the little gnome began chanting under his breath. I noticed the air become noticeably warmer.

I began a silent prayer, allowing to soft energies of The Light to fill my very being with their powers. I readied myself in the case that my healing abilities were required. Which they usually were.

And then they were upon us, twelve score of grey skinned Orcs, wielding axes and wearing crude mail armor. We were only four, but held the advantage of superior weaponry. We quickly dismounted to save the horses and met their attack.

The draenei and Aberline went in two directions, clashing with the Orcs and keeping Mekka and I between them. Mekka breathed one last syllable and orange fireballs conjured themselves in his palms. The first two Orcs to see this were scorched beyond recognition.

I focused on directing my healing powers to the cuts and bruises appearing on the draenei and Aberline from the few blows they could not deflect.

These Orcs were better trained than we had anticipated. Aside from the two that Mekka had burnt, only one other lay dead. One proved to be warlock and focused his time on preventing Mekka from casting any more fireballs. The two magic users instead traded spells and tried their very best to kill the other in the most imaginative way they could think of.

I turned just in time to watch the draenei slay another Orc, decapitating him while parrying the blow from another. Unfortunately, there were still remained eight more attackers, outnumbering our small group and somehow preventing their deaths.

I had just cast another healing spell on Aberline, whose left hand had been almost severed, when I glimpsed a flash of dark green behind the Orcs pressing the draenei. Without warning, an arm was ripped off by the powerful jaws of a raptor, a Venomhide Ravasaur. I had only seen these in the Un'goro Crater. I watched as the raptor killed two more Orcs before they had a chance to regroup and the draenei killed the remaining one in front of him.

Aberline took advantage of the confusion to kill two of his attackers while the draenei eyed the raptor.

I turned to Mekka when I saw an arrow pierce through his opponent's eye, leaking the magics used by Hunters for their arcane powered arrows. Aberline swiftly crushed his last opponents head with his black hammer.

Now we were simply left with a raptor and a still hidden archer. Yet the hunter did not press their advantage. Instead, I watched as a beautiful high elf gracefully exited herself from a tree nearby.

She walked up to the raptor and, whispering a few words to it in a language unknown to me, calmed it. She then approached Aberline and bowed slightly, by way of acknowledgment.

"My name is Ronae Moonshade. Your party was lucky that I had decided to spend the night in that tree, or else you those Orcs would have killed you and stolen your horses."

"I am Aberline Wolfsbane, of Stormwind. What business do you have in these woods, elf?" It was no secret that Aberline was not fond of any…non human creature, but I must say he was more receptive to elves than draenei. "I am thankful for your timely intervention, but I must know your business."

"My business is none of your concern, paladin. But if you must know, I am on my way to Stormwind. I had been hoping to hire out my services."

Aberline squinted at the woman. "You're a mercenary." Aberline also did not like mercenaries.

I pulled him aside. "Aberline, you saw what she can do with a bow, and the power of her raptor. I think we should hire her for this mission. We're only a day out from Stormwind and we've already encountered Orcs. She may come in handy later on in the journey."

Aberline looked squarely at me, considering my offer.

He turned back to Ronae. "We're making camp here. I shall hire you for the remainder of our journey. Alexander here will fill you in on our task." Aside to me, "Just don't get too distracted, priest. Beauty can cloud you vision and block other dangers."

He set about assigning different tasks to the draenei and Mekka while I conversed with Ronae about our current line of travel.

I could not help but think I had met this enchanting hunter sometime before, maybe during the battles for Mount Hyjal and the foothold in the Firelands. But that couldn't be right. This Ronae was a high elf with the most spectacular blue eyes.

And the hunter I vaguely remember meeting had bright green eyes, teeming with the fel energies of the Blood Elves of the Horde.

As the two of us talked and gathered fire wood for the night, she once again demonstrated her skill with a bow by bringing down several large birds for a cooked dinner. Her raptor trailed us every step, hunting for its own dinner, most like.

Every once in a while, I would catch it toss something into the air and swallow it without the slightest hint of chewing. Probably rats or squirrels.

Later that night, after a good dinner and a few rounds of dwarven ale Mekka had been kind enough to bring, I noticed something strange. The horses appeared restless, and not because of the raptor. They had seen much worse things and could easily contend with the raptor.

No, something else was making them restless. Ronae's raptor as well. Which worried me more than the horses did.

Ronae saw me watching the horses.

"Don't worry, Alex, they probably just smell something dead. I noticed it earlier, before the Blackrock attack. Something's died here recently. Oh, don't worry, Mekka. By recently I mean a couple days ago. Whatever killed it is long disappeared by now."

But her assurances did nothing to prevent Mekka from nervously looking around him, shifting uncomfortably where he sat.

"Mekka, you have killed two large Orcs today by burning their faces off, are you really scared of a dead animal?" I asked.

Mekka managed a weak smile, and then returned to his nervous actions. The draenei laughed; a rich, hearty sound and Aberline broke out in a big grin. The alcohol was starting to take its effect and Mekka volunteered to take the first watch.

"Oh, what's the matter, little gnome," Aberline chided. "Does the big bad forest scare you with its untold deaths and predators? Do not worry, little one, you can always light them a campfire!" Aberline and the draenei laughed even harder. I managed a small smile.

Ronae was not amused.

"I am not afraid, you oaf," Mekka squeaked. "I am simply not tired at this exact moment and would like some time to myself without having to listen to your obscene human sense of humor."

Both Aberline and the draenei were asleep within seconds of lying down, but I resisted for a few minutes, until I noticed Ronae's shining blue eyes in the dark. She quickly closed them, pretending to be asleep, but I had already noticed. Her eyes promised future adventures and enticement, and suggested at her all too mortal need for companionship.

A lot can be told by looking into someone's eyes. You can see their true motives and the future of their actions. I only wish I could have foreseen in that night what transpired the next.

I had taken the last watch of the night and was still awake when the rest of my party began to rise from their slumber. They struggled to fight of the drowsiness that had overtaken them the night before; Aberline and the draenei more so than the others due.

I must admit, I was very surprised to see them rise so early, due to the sheer amount of dwarven ale they had consumed the night before. I had thought that their large stature would have been able to handle the alcohol, but then Mekka had shown me the alcohol content. I came to realize that not drinking that night was one of the best decisions I had ever made.

Ronae awoke quickly and with the grace of a predator. She immediately gathered her bow and left the camp, I presumed to hunt.

While Mekka, Aberline, and the draenei were still preparing themselves, I set out a small breakfast consisting of dried meats and fruits; nothing compared to last night's meal, but enough to grant us the energy to continue on our journey without hesitation.

The four of us ate in relative silence, enjoying the serenity of the forest around us. However, we soon found the quiet discomforting. We could not hear any birds, and even the usual squirrels were absent from the surrounding trees. The strange smell from last night was stronger than ever, that unmistakable odor of decomposition. That body Ronae guessed must be nearby was now becoming noticeable.

Mekka became even more nervous. At the time, I did not realize why. He was a dedicated mage, capable of killing multitudes of enemies before him, and no doubt he had killed many people. So why would someone so used to death be disquieted by the closeness of a dead body?

I am a priest and a healer, but I have seen many campaigns. This smell is not so unusual nor so strange to nature.

Although I embarrassed to admit that sometimes my wolf grows restless and hungry at these smells. I do not let him out to hunt nearly as often as he would like.

Ronae had still not returned by the time were finished breaking our fast. I had left some food out for her, but Aberline and the draenei insisted she would have her own rations. Needless to say these two soldiers were bonding over their similarities.

They ate the food I had so meticulously prepared for her. Well, maybe not meticulously. It was simply dried foodstuffs. But I had set it out for her.

It was then that I began to remember some of the battles I had been involved in at Mount Hyjal during the campaign against Ragnaros and his fire elementals. Aberline was not with me at that point, he had gone to strengthen the Wrymrest Temple during the final days of the war against Deathwing.

I was not privy to the details of the mission, but I understand there was some time travel involved. A weapon of great power was obtained just before its destruction in the past, and brought back to kill Deathwing. Aberline was one of the commanders of the defense while a few adventurers were sent on that mission.

Days after the Avengers of Hyjal killed Ragnaros alongside the combined armies of the Horde and Alliance, the time travelers returned to the present and Aberline was one of the soldiers who fought and killed Deathwing.

But what I remember most about those days was the mysterious Blood Elf I met during my campaign in the Firelands. It was an early battle, when we saw the most resistance and the fighting was intense. My wolf had taken the front lines and insisted on fighting the druids of the flame present.

They had me cornered when arrows fell from the sky, piercing their skin and driving them back. Her green eyes burned with such passion that I was immediately taken in. We spent the night together, away from the constant fighting. But when morning rose, she had disappeared. Probably to another front to continue the war.

The details of her appearance were now fresh in my mind. I was sure of her identity, but there was still someone I needed to talk to first.

Aberline started issuing instructions to break camp and sent me to find Ronae. Or rather, he gave me leave to do so. I do believe he winked at me when he said this. And I thought my attraction had been subtle.

I found her a quarter mile away from the camp, where the Nazferiti River ran parallel to our road.

She was naked.

I had presumed that she had gone off to hunt with her raptor, but it appears she meant to bathe in the river before we broke camp. I caught her just exiting herself from the cool waters.

I wish I could say I was savvy enough to not stare, but to say that would be lying. In fact, I believe I froze in place, eyes wide with shock and admiration, struggling to find a single word to say to her.

For her part, she gazed at me with bored eyes, shrugged, and law on the grass, allowing the sunlight to dry her exquisite form. She closed her glowing blue eyes and let out a breath.

"Talbot, what are you doing? I had thought Gilneans were gentlemen and knew the proper manners when encountering the female form. Have I been misled?"

I finally regained my wits and turned my blushing face away from her glowing body. "I apologize, Ronae, but I could not help myself. I have seen many a bare form, but none so beautiful to behold as yours."

I sensed she was smiling from her spot. "Perhaps I was not wrong; you do know how to flatter a girl, Talbot. Or shall I call you Alexander?"

"I have no preference, but my friends call me Alexander of Alex, for short. The decision lies with you: are you my friend, or simply my traveling companion, Ronae?"

"Then I believe I will call you Alex." She opened her eyes and smiled again, the light played off her blue eyes the same way it caused the water to sparkle like hundreds of precious jewels. The effect it had me was completely mesmerizing. I temporarily forgot the reason I had sought her out in the first place.

I distinctly remember my time with the unnamed blood elf, and I decided to uncover the truth behind Ronae's identity. Was it possible for two separate species of elf to be completely identical? Even the occurrence of twins with siblings is rare, so it must be even rarer indeed for two unrelated women to be of such like appearance. The only explanation I could discern was that Ronae and my previous lover were the same person.

But how could that be possible?

"Ronae, your beauty had blinded me, but now I remember the reason for seeking you out this morning. Aberline and the draenei have packed up already and we are ready to set off on our journey."

She began picking her clothes together and donning her light armor. I just now noticed that she wore a mail shirt underneath a leather jerkin. She was prepared for more than simple hunting. A hunter wearing mail armor was more likely to be an archer, possibly connected to a military organization of some sort, which was keeping in line with my previous encounter.

"But before we head back to the others, I do have a question for you." She gazed at me expectantly. "Were your eyes always that shade of blue?"

I could tell she had not expected this question, as the expression held on her face changed from one of expectancy and excitement, to a flash of horror, to a more composed but worried face.

She did not answer immediately, instead gathering her quiver and bow, sliding several knives into sheathes scattered around her body. She then whistled for her raptor before turning back to me.

"I do not know why you would ask such a thing, Alex. I am a high elf, as these eyes prove. And you know full well that our eye color does not change in the same way that a human's might. Blue remains blue."

"Of course, Ronae. It's just that I remember meeting another elf who looked identical to you, and I cannot help wondering if I had met you once before. It would not be so unlikely. I have traveled extensively, as I imagine you have. And, judging by your skill, I can hazard a guess as to where you have fought. Did you fly to the assistance of the defenders of Mount Hyjal in their campaign against the forces of Ragnaros?"

"And what if I had? I have traveled to every corner of Azeroth and beyond it. Would it really be important if I had traveled to one singular mountain? This planet is so much larger than that, Alex."

By this time, her raptor had appeared. She mounted and prepared to depart.

I decided to begin my attack here. I said a soft prayer to myself and felt my magic begin to gather around my body, ready to spread out to the immediate area with a single word. "I apologize, Ronae, I just cannot help but attempt to discover more about you. I find you fascinating; your beauty only serves to complement your deadliness. And that raptor of yours suggests far more experience that I will ever accumulate."

I drew closer to her and, reaching my hand up to her, I made a move to brush her cheek. She leaned her head in, ready to receive my touch.

But alas, it was not to happen.

I released the magic I had been storing around me at that time, sending a small wave of power out into the surrounding few feet containing the two of us. The effect was noticeably at first. The spell was one that dispelled other magics in the area, and if there had been none, Ronae would not have even noticed what had happened.

However, there was a spell she had cast on herself, one which I had then dispelled, allowing me to discover the truth behind her existence.

Her eyes were green. The green only a blood elf possessed. This meant I was correct in my assessment. Ronae was the same elf as the one I had met not too long ago atop that mountain. As to her reasons for impersonating a high elf, I did not get the chance to ask her. As soon as she realized what happened, she whistled again and the raptor fled with her on its back in the direction of Aberline and the rest of the party.

I ran after her.

If you knew Aberline as I do, you would understand my haste. He is extremely distrustful of other species, and he only befriended me after I had saved his life. He gets along with the draenei simply because they are so similar. But if he were to discover that there was a blood elf among us, his anger would know no bounds.

If there is anything he hates more than other species, it is the Horde and everything it represent. If it were up to him, the Alliance would engage our rivals in all out war.

I felt the fur bristling before the change occurred. In quick succession, my nails extended to claws, my bones broke and rearranged themselves, and my face extended into a snout. I unleashed my wolf. Dropping to all fours, I ran wild and quickly made it back to the camp. I ran as fast as my beast would allow, hoping I could head off Ronae and prevent Aberline from seeing her green eyes.

As a member of the Alliance, I should not have shown that much concern for the elf, but I realize now that I was infatuated with her. Still am, and I was not willing to allow her to be caught and executed.

I returned to camp minutes after Ronae, and the whole party was now waiting on me. It was then that I realized that my haste had been for naught.

Somewhere along the way, Ronae had recast the spell on herself and her eyes were now blue again. Aberline, the draenei, and Mekka were unaware of what had transpired only minutes before. And I became determined to keep it like that.

We set off, making good time as we rode towards the border between Elwynn Forest and the Redrigde Mountains. I could see Aberline becoming uncomfortable in his saddle. I surmised that he could sense a disturbance in the Light that grants us our powers. Paladins and priests have always been acute to changes in good and evil in our surroundings, and Aberline's activity now reinforced the nagging sensation that had been growing in the back of my head. However, I decided to put off talking to him for another time.

Now, I had to make amends with Ronae and assure her safety. I kicked my horse and guided it beside her raptor. I made sure that we were slightly away from the main group before I spoke.

"Ronae, I apologize for before, but I had to know it was you. I still remember our time on Mount Hyjal, and I only wished to let that be known. I assure you that I have no intention of telling the others who you really are."

She made a sound and turned her head away. "I know you will keep your silence. The fact that you have not told them yet assures me so." She gazed straight ahead, keeping her head perfectly still so as to avoid any potential glance in my direction. "And I remember Mount Hyjal as well."

It was then that the raptor stopped.

Ronae looked down in confusion as our companions halted their horses and looked back. The raptor lifted its nose to the sky and sniffed. It could smell something close by, and I knew then that it could smell the decomposing body from the day before. Ronae had surmised that it was located something around our old campsite, but now I could tell she was not so sure.

The smell had somehow followed us.

I traded a glance with Aberline and we both dismounted at the same time to take a quick look around our area. It was not unheard of for undead to venture this far south, but it was extremely unlikely. They preferred to remain far north, in Lordaeron, where they had poisoned the lands enough to support their cursed existence.

Yet somehow it appeared there was one nearby.

Mekka had not come down from his horse. Instead, I sensed the buildup of magic before I saw the first fireball fly at the draenei. It hit him square in the chest, his heavy plate armor barely deflecting the heat, but the force of the attack knocked him to the ground. Before he could get up, Mekka was chanting and conjuring more fire.

Aberline brandished his hammer and I prepared a spell of my own, one which would cast a shield of light around my ally, preventing harm from coming to him or her. Mekka shot a stream of fire directly at Aberline as the paladin attempted to charge the mage, but I managed to cast my shield in time. It absorbed the entirety of Mekka's attack.

Unfortunately, this did not dissuade the gnome. He prepared more fire and cast his own shield, igniting his entire body in flame. Aberline charged a small ball of light in his fist and flung it at Mekka, but the flames were stronger and drowned out the light.

The paladin then swung his hammer in a wide arc, intending to crush the little mage with one mighty blow. Instead, the gnome blinked out of existence, only to reappear on the other side of the road.

But the draenei was waiting for him.

The warrior stabbed with one of his short swords and managed to pierce one of Mekka's hands, canceling out the fire magic the mage had been readying.

Ronae had been conspicuously absent until this moment, and then I saw why. She had been preparing a special arrow for the occasion, once which only the most advanced marksman could fire.

An arrow capable of cutting off a person's access to their pool of mana, a silencing shot which would prevent anyone struck by it from using any form of magic.

She aimed, the arrow flew through the air in a small arc, and pierced straight through Mekka's other hand.

Unable to utilize any more of his fire, the gnome sunk to the ground in defeat. The draenei held his swords to his throat while Aberline took a length of rope out of pack. He handed it to me and I tied up the mage, making sure he could not escape my knots.

Aberline laid his hammer on the ground and lowered himself to Mekka's height. "Now them gnome, would you care to explain your actions? Because, to me, it appeared as if you were trying to kill us. But that cannot be right, can it? We have been so nice to each other so far. I know Talbot here can be a bit hairy sometimes, but that is no excuse to melt him."

I had to stifle a laugh. I had heard this line so many times before in Aberline's interrogations. He always approached it light heartily, hoping to get the captive off guard and ensure that they would be equally as civil to Aberline. He also made sure to joke with the captive, further allowing for a civil discourse as opposed to a string of insults.

"You really have no idea who am I, do you paladin? No idea who you're dealing with. The cult does not take kindly to people poking in their business, as you well know."

"Oh, and what cult would that be? I have fought against and destroyed so many, it's hard to keep track."

"The Cult of the Damned."

"Those undead imbeciles?" Aberline let out a laugh from his gut, and I couldn't help smile. The draenei and Ronae were less amused. "They are but a relic, an insufferable annoyance, but no more. They must really be on the edge if they had to recruit someone like you to do their missions."

And then, something unexpected happened. Mekka smiled. "Foolish paladin, you don't even know what lies at the end of your journey. Nightmares and evil, paladin. The nightmares are real, and they're coming for all us. The cult wanted to make an alliance with them, a power which even the Old Gods feared, and I was their envoy."

Aberline dropped his jovial attitude, becoming more serious now. "Why are you telling us all this?"

"Because, paladin, I have come to know over these past two days, and I know that you will see this mission to the end. You need to be ready when you get there. I have already failed, so there is no harm in giving you information. And now, I must bid you a farewell, but I daresay you may be seeing me sooner than you realize."

Without further word and without warning, the gnome burst into flames. I guess the effects of Ronae magic arrow had run their course and allowed Mekka access to his magic. While he burned, his clothes disappeared, revealing a decomposing arm which had produced the smell that had been following us.

He had still been mortal, but was well on his way to becoming undead. And as he burned into ash, I could not help but wonder what he meant when he said we would see him again. Nothing of him remained but bone.

My dreams that night were filled with darkness and flying things. A great war raged in my sleep, between shadowy figures, flying demons, and tendrils bursting from the ground.

But this was only the beginning of the nightmare.

The next morning was bleak, the sun shrouded by clouds and the scorched remains of Mekka Bronzebolt only yards away from our camp. The events of the night before persisted in my mind as I broke my fast among my remaining three companions. We had begun our trip as four, gaining one new friend yet losing a traveling companion in the process. Now we returned to our original number.

The draenei did not seem outwardly affected by what had transpired last night, and I realized he disliked the gnome mage just as much as Aberline did. The only difference between their attitudes was the fact that Aberline took any insult to the Alliance personally. The very idea that someone would trade their services for undeath was completely unfathomable to the paladin.

As for me, Mekka's betrayal and subsequent death did not greatly affect me. Of course, I was saddened by his passing and discomforted by his true nature. However, he was not my friend, and could not insult me as he had Aberline.

We took a little longer setting off that morning than previous ones. Aberline was confident that we would cross into Redridge in the early afternoon, and wanted to get as close as possible to our destination before nightfall. We all knew it would take roughly four days from the start of our journey to arrive, but Mekka's words last night spurred Aberline on.

The human appeared worried about the nightmares that Mekka described, and I decided to ask my friend about it.

He responded to my inquiry, "I only know a few rumors about the outpost. One of which is that the paladins and priests stationed there had a secret agenda, given to them by King Wrynn himself. Something to do with Deadwind Pass."

I pondered the meaning of this information. Deadwind Pass had long been a seat of evil magic, stemming from the dreaded tower Karazhan, where the corrupted mage Medivh had established his home. For years its evil had sought to spread into the surrounding lands.

"But Karazhan was finally raided, and the demon occupying the fortress was slain, Aberline. As far as Stormwind knows, most of the evil has been dispelled. Why would the Cult of the Damned be interested in that place? The raiders left nothing of interest once they were finished."

"I think there is something else, some other evil that has taken up residence in Karazhan. There have been stories circulating throughout the Stormwind army, about adventurers who have disappeared around that area. And if we take Mekka at his word, there is something very old buried there."

We had returned to the events of the previous night at last; I had wanted to discuss them with Aberline, but I could tell he was not in the mindset to engage in a discourse concerning a traitor to the Alliance.

Instead, I said a soft prayer for the departed and decided to practice a few healing spells, so as to not become rusty. I concentrated on bringing light to my hands and spreading the power throughout my body, targeting fractures and cuts that were not present. My abilities had not diminished at all, but it still comforted me to practice.

Ronae had volunteered to take point in our formation, and the draenei lingered behind us, watching our backs. Mekka's promise that we would see him again soon was ever present in our minds as we made our way through the forest.

Ronae's raptor appeared bored with the tedious journey and several times the elf was forced to encourage the beast to remain on the road. It wanted to hunt.

Raptors had long been trained as mounts by the jungle trolls of the southern forests, but they were still predators, unused to long periods of labor, as opposed to the mountain horses we rode, which were brought up as tough workers.

Eventually, with a sigh, Ronae allowed the raptor to go off on its own and, walking towards my horse, vaulted onto its back, landing behind me. Riding side saddle, it was several minutes before she spoke.

"I do not want you to get the wrong idea, Alex. I simply do not feel like walking alongside these beasts, and my raptor simply refuses to carry me any longer. I am only riding with you because I must."

"Of course, Ronae, and I am sure our history has absolutely nothing to do with this. You would not want our companions to get the wrong idea."

I said this last sentence a little louder than I intended to, and heard a snicker originate from Aberline. I had informed him that I met Ronae a few months prior; conveniently leaving out the fact that she is actually a blood elf.

Ronae continued to defend herself to me, or, more likely, to herself. I had no problem with her borrowing my horse. In fact, I enjoyed her presence and could not help but allow my lips to turn up in a smile.

Aberline had moved forward to take up the forward position during this time, and was now whistling to himself to clear the silence following Ronae's musings. It was a light tune, something to cheer up weary travelers, and a particular favorite of the paladin's. I closed my eyes and let my horse follow the sound while I dozed off.

I do not know why, but I was tired. A tiredness not caused by lack of sleep, Aberline made sure we were all well rested before setting off. Instead, I could feel a slight pressure pushing me down, spiritually.

It was as if the closer we got to our destination, the stronger this force became. I could have been feeling this for the past two days, but I probably had not noticed.

Aberline tensed in his saddle, and I knew he could feel the same thing.

I lifted my eyelids and kicked my horse to ride beside his.

"You can feel something, can't you, Aberline? There is a pressure pushing at my senses, something out of the corner of my eye that I cannot quite see. It feels as if the very light of my surroundings is being drained."

"Yes, Talbot, I can feel it too, but I do not believe the draenei or your elf friend can feel it. Our affinity with the Light makes us particularly sensitive. But I can place this feeling now that we are closer to Redridge."

For the first time, my friend appeared worried; his very countenance had lost its vigor and he slouched in his saddle. I implicitly knew he was correct in his assessment of the situation. I am unsure how I knew this to be true, but looking back on it now, I am certain I was correct.

I experimented with the Light, concentrating it into a sphere in front of me and sending it flying in front of us. It remained strong, but its power dwindled the farther away it got from us. There was something ahead, some darkness, which was stronger than I could imagine. If it were at the outpost, our destination, then its power would have to be unimaginable for it to affect my spells this far off.

Aberline saw a signpost up ahead and read that we were merely half a mile away from the border of Redridge. We had made much better time than previously anticipated.

The draenei let out a shout behind us, and I could hear the sound of steel being scraped along leather. He had drawn his blades. Aberline flipped backwards in his saddle, and I leaned around Ronae to observe what was happening.

The draenei had halted his horse and a figure was quickly approaching him, running on all fours, as though an animal, but with the body of a man.

"Aberline, it's a geist! Looks like it came from our old camp!"

"Let's charge forward, I refuse to waste any more time on the undead! If he has been resurrected nearby, the running water should diffuse the spell holding the creature together." Aberline turned his horse back towards our destination and spurred it forward. The draenei and I did the same.

Ronae held her bow in one hand and slid an arrow onto the string, preparing to skewer our pursuer. I noticed that the shaft was heavier than her regular arrow, and the tip seemed to be weighted. The draenei saw this and drew his horse to one side. Ronae let the arrow loose. It struck the creature in the left shoulder, and caused it to stumble.

There was a bend in the road and we quickly left the geist behind.

"Ronae, what was that arrow? I stopped that creature in its tracks."

"Hunters call it a Concussive Shot, we developed it for heavier armored opponents, but it is just as good against lighter enemies."

"You hear that Aberline? She has an arrow specifically for you and our draenei friend!"

"We will attempt to not get on her bad side!" The draenei retorted with a laugh. And just like that, our group was as one again.

However, the moment was ruined when a shadow appeared in the trees around us. The geist had easily caught up to our horses and was flying from branch to branch as if it had wings of its own. Aberline urged his horse to go faster, as did I and the draenei. Ronae's raptor was nowhere in sight, probably engaged in a hunt of its own.

Ronae readied another arrow behind me and, pointing her bow up towards the trees; let it fly at the undead creature. I expected to hear the impact of its body against the ground, but it did not happen quite that way.

The geist saw the arrow coming and, utilizing a feat of strength without the aid of any external force, leapt over our heads to the trees on the other side of the road, resuming the chase. Aberline unleashed a blast of light energy towards the creature but only succeeded in cutting a few branches down. The geist was faster than any of us could comprehend.

The draenei guided his horse closer to the tree line and began cutting at the trunks, attempting to knock the undead monstrosity from its avenue. But the geist was too fast, and got ahead of the draenei's strikes.

Ronae again attempted to shoot it down to no avail. By this time, we had reached the border of Redridge and drove our horses even faster, driving them across a small bridge stretching over a small outlet of the Nazferiti River. Finally feeling safe, we slowed our horses and chanced a look behind us.

The trees had abruptly stopped at the entrance to the mountain region, and the geist was forced to go on foot from here. Aberline had surmised that someone was controlling the geist, and the magic of flowing water would dispel the magic.

But, alas, he was incorrect. The geist did not slow upon landing, instead picking up speed as it hurtled towards us. It flew across the bridge and was upon us before we had a chance to drive our horses forward. It leapt and tackled Aberline off his saddle and, in a tangle of limbs, attempted to rip off his armor.

The draenei dismounted and ran towards them, driving one of his swords into the geist's back. This seemed to have an effect, as it stopped what it was doing. The undead turned to look at the warrior with its one unnatural eye, and simply stared at him. It glanced down at its chest, where the sword remained, and let out a shriek.

It flew over the draenei and did a quick somersault to face him again. Charging the armored warrior, it attempted to claw at his chest, but the plate armor deflected the attack. Ronae shot another arrow at the geist, and this one hit its mark, piercing through its head.

For a moment it was still, but then it turned on Ronae and I saw that the arrow had missed the brain, instead traveling through the cheek, allowing the geist to remain animated.

I rushed to Aberline, who appeared injured from the attack and began a healing prayer to mend his wounds. Before I could cast my spell, I felt the geist leap onto my back and begin tearing at my skin.

I rose and attempted to shake it off, sending a blast of divine light towards it, but it somehow dodged while remaining firmly on my back. It chanced to touch the Soulkeeper staff which now shared my backside with the monster, and it must have felt the hunger surge through the staff, for the geist dropped to the ground and turned its attention towards Aberline once again.

The draenei rushed forward with his remaining sword and swung a horizontal strike, meaning to take off the foul creatures head, but the geist dodged and ran at Ronae. Without warning, her raptor leapt from the nearby forest and nearly crushed the geist, but not before it was able to jump backwards away from the elf and her protector.

Another arrow flew through the air, this time ripping off the geist's right arm. Black blood flowed from the wound and I could clearly see bone sticking out from the creature. Something about the bone stirred memories within me.

And then I knew.

Mekka Bronzebolt, the gnome mage whom had burnt himself alive last night, had indeed returned to us. He must have had a spell prepared in case of his capture and subsequent death. Somehow, he had revived himself as a geist.

We had left his pack back with his remains, and in our haste forgotten to search it. It now appears that Mekka had carried other bones with him in order to construct a body stronger and more agile than his in life.

Anger consumed me at this flagrant disregard for the sanctity of life and death and I once again felt the familiar tingle of fur sprouting from my arms. My wolf wanted to come out and play.

And I let it.

Bones broke and rearranged themselves; muscles tore and reinforced themselves upon mending; my face extended and my teeth sharpened as I took on the form of the worgen. I felt the power of the wolf extend throughout my body as the beast within me came to the forefront. I dropped to all fours and growled at the geist.

I sensed the draenei hold his ground, his other sword retrieved from the geist's midsection, and take a position behind the geist, preventing it from escaping my wrath. Ronae, however, I could tell had quailed in the presence of my other form. The shift, it seems, had unsettled her somewhat.

But I disregarded that for now. This creature had hurt Aberline, my friend, and I was not prepared to let it survive this encounter. I charged, and the geist hesitated before it met me in battle.

With its remaining arm, it clawed at my chest, but I used its attack to gain distance and bit into its neck. I meant to tear the creature's head off, but it kicked up at my throat. I recoiled away from the attack, unwilling to sacrifice my jugular for revenge.

We circled each other, sizing up the opposition. The geist must have realized I would most likely kill it, and would initiate the first attack, so I did instead.

However, I did resort to brute force as is common for worgen. I rose to my hind legs and concentrated on a spell. I could feel my cursed form's connection with the Light transform itself into a connection with the shadows.

The geist sensed the change in me and attempted to run, but an arrow from Ronae's bow shredded its left leg.

I let loose my spell, a wave of shadows meant to attack the very mind of the targeted creature, and the geist froze. I then calmly walked up to it and, with my fangs, tore its head from its neck.

Following that, I drew the Soulkeeper and planted the end in the geist's body, allowing my accursed staff to absorb whatever remnants of a soul may have remained.

I then took a moment to calm myself, harnessing my wolf, and returned to my human form. I then remembered Aberline and rushed to his side.

"Hey beastie, did you have fun with your little hunt?" He laughed weakly. The geist had torn open his neck, the blood flowed freely. "You priests always surprise me."

"Shut up, you headstrong paladin, I need to focus." He tried to talk again, and I placed my hand over his mouth. The other one I rested on top of his wound and allowed my magic to mingle with his blood, my light energies following the crimson liquid into the skin and threading through the tears. I could feel his wound beginning to close, his blood beginning to clot, and I relaxed.

He would live, but my job was far from over. Infection had begun to set in and I needed to cast another spell to cure him of any diseases which may have been transferred from the animated corpse. I then continued applying healing spells to his neck and other areas, ensuring that he would recover full use of his faculties.

The draenei watched with intense interest as I restored the paladin to his full fighting prowess, and was impressed when I healed his minor scratches with a wave of my hand.

Ronae, on the other hand, was not impressed with me. In fact she refused to speak with me for the rest of the day. It was only after we have set up camp several miles into the Redridge Mountain that she spoke as we were preparing for sleep.

"I cannot decide whether you are terrifying, or attractive, or both. But I know your heart is pure." With that, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.

We rose late the next morning and put off setting out for the day due to my recommendation that Aberline be allowed to rest a little while longer. His injuries had been completely healed by my abilities, but I still wanted him to go slow for the day. There is only so much my healing magics can do. Some injuries require rest along with the spells in order to heal.

However, Aberline appeared more or less his usual self in the morning. He made certain that our camp was packed and our party was ready to set off earlier than I recommended. I really cannot argue with the man.

We had traveled farther than we had meant to the day before, mainly because we drove our horses harder in order to avoid Mekka's geist, which caught up to us anyways.

Ronae was silent for most of the day, and would not meet my eye when I looked towards her. I believe the events of the night, seeing my wolf side in action for the first time, was something she would have to process before speaking to me again.

Instead, I rode up front with Aberline as our destination rose into view. Shortly after noon, I could hear the sound of falling water as the waterfall came into view. In the most southern part of the Redridge Mountain, this waterfall spawns the Nazferiti River and rests on the border between these mountains and Deadwind Pass. At the top of those hills is where the outpost rested.

Aberline instructed Ronae and the draenei to remain at the base of the waterfall and set up camp, in case there were survivors that needed treatment. The two of us then guided our horses onto a steep, narrow path that led us up the side of a cliff. This was the reason we had brought Gilnean mountain horses in the first place; they live their whole lives in the mountains and know better than any other beast how to navigate these paths.

Along the way, Aberline and I spoke little, instead pouring all of focus into watching where the horses led us and wondering what we would find once we reached the top.

It took several hours, but our reliable mounts made the journey. I must admit, Aberline and I were very surprised when we saw the outpost. There was a small clump of buildings that appeared to be houses, and one larger building that was in reality a church of the Light. This made sense, however, because the occupants of this outpost were paladins and priests.

The one thing we did not see, though, was any people. The outpost was eerily quiet and equally as empty. Nothing stirred. In the distance, we could see the bleak landscape of Deadwind Pass with Karazhan stretching up towards the sky, its black stone a scar upon the land.

Whatever their mission here, the occupants of this outpost were most definitely vanquished by some foe. Aberline and I set out to investigate, searching through the dwellings, leaving the church for our last stop.

While Aberline was in the dwelling next to mine, I discovered a journal of some sort. I called out to Aberline and showed him my discovery. The first pages were simply a day to day log of the activity of the outpost. Nothing of mentions occurred except for brief intervals when the writer believed to see things in Deadwind Pass.

But on subsequent pages, these sightings were dismissed. Until the latter portion of the journal.

I read aloud, "'Today, he finally came. The entire reason for this outpost's establishment. He appeared as an old man, shrouded in grey robes with a certain air about him that unsettles the men. Most of them do not know the true purpose of our mission. They believe we are a barrier between the new occupant of Karazhan and the realms of mortals.

'But that is not the case. In fact, we are an envoy. It is true that there is a new resident in Karazhan, but King Varian Wrynn has sent us here to negotiate a truce and an alliance. However, upon meeting the man, I am unsure that a treaty would be beneficial to the Alliance…'

"That's the end of that entry, Aberline. This one's dated the next day; 'I feel I must correct my writing's from yesterday. I now believe that this being is the one hope we have against growing threats in this world. We were attacked last night by some unseen enemy, a shroud of savage shadows that killed several of my men. This old man, who calls himself Nodens, was able to single-handedly vanquish the foe.

'I am still uncertain of his motivations, however, as he did so grudgingly and only after I promised to grant him a favor once it was done. The one thing I do know is that he carries great power with him. Power we may need.

'My brief from Stormwind suggests that this man possesses power enough to rival the Old Gods themselves, and after his displays, I feel inclined to believe so. Tomorrow we will meet once more to finalize the details.'

"Here, this one appears to be the last entry. I wonder what happened to everyone, everything seemed to be going so well.

'There was a disappearance today. One of my men is gone without a trace. I questioned Nodens, he does not know anything. Or he is not telling me what happened. My other men seem just as clueless.

'It cannot be a coincidence that the disappearance happened so soon after the old man's arrival at our outpost. I am certain this man had something to do with it, but I still cannot tell for certain. He remains as mysterious as always.

'I received a letter from Stormwind today informing me that a Faceless One had surfaced in Stormwind Harbor, and had attempted to travel through the city. They believe it would have traveled in this direction. My superiors tell me to prepare for immediate attack, but I believe the warning to have arrived too late. Another man disappeared during lunch.

'I have doubled the watch and set regular patrols. If the servants of the Old Gods want to take this outpost, they will have to fight tooth and nail, for we are servants of the Light, and we will not falter!

'I think I now know what has been happening to my men. A Faceless One climbed the hill and entered the camp. One of my paladins killed it swiftly enough, for it did not fight back. It wore a necklace around its wrist which I immediately recognized as belonging to the first man who disappeared. They have been killing my men and I haven't stopped them yet!'"

There was a break in the narrative here, where I surmise that the captain went out to fight alongside his men and track down the Faceless Ones. Aberline sat next to me clenching his fists. He was angry that the forces of evil would dare attack a group of paladins so close to Stormwind occupied territory.

I found the continuation of the entry on the next page. "'I was wrong, the men have not been killed. In fact, we are ones who have been killing them. Today, we slew another three Faceless Ones, all of which bore traits belonging to my men. And then, at supper, one of my friends changed.

'It started slowly at first, one of his fingers became unnaturally long, and then tentacles sprouted from his mouth. His skin turned a dark shade of purple and one arm shrunk into a near useless tendril.

'One of my paladins changed into a Faceless One before our very eyes! But that was just the start of the madness. One after another, all throughout the night, every single one of my men transformed into a Faceless One.

'Nodens has barricaded himself in the chapel, telling me that he is sorry for us, but he must survive. And I not inclined to dispute him. Already I can feel the changes taking place within me. I am changing as well. Soon I will serve N'zoth in his machinations for this world.

'It was the water. If anyone is reading these words, the water was corrupted. Poisoned, anyone who drinks it becomes Faceless.'"

From here, the writing became illegible, scrawled all over the page. Aberline and I surmised that the writer had changed into a Faceless One while writing this entry.

"Wait a minute, Talbot, the chapel. The captain wrote that this Nodens person locked himself in the chapel. According to entry's date, this was only a few days ago. This man may still be in there. We have a witness to these events."

Aberline led me to the chapel in the center of the outpost, constantly keeping an eye for any lurking monsters waiting to ambush us. On our way to the chapel, we passed a well which must have supplied the plagued water.

For many years, Alliance and Horde scientists alike have been curious as to the origins of the Faceless Ones, and one theory has always been that they were created, not born. All that is known is that they serve the Old Gods and that their species is just as old as the gods whom they serve.

My companion was forced to utilize his hammer in breaking down the chapel's door. Both of felt slightly uncomfortable in entering such a building in such a way, but there was no choice.

Below the altar, Nodens slept. He appeared as any old man, dressed in grey robes with a white beard and walking stick. He looked frail and did not wake when we approached his inert form. I could not tell if he was injured or simply exhausted from his vigil in the chapel. Aberline suggested we return to our companions and inform them of our discoveries.

The journey back down the mountain was just as, if not more, treacherous than the journey up, and it was nearly dark when we arrived at the bottom. The draenei had started a fire and Ronae was cooking some large fish she had caught in the river.

We ate our dinner with only the sound of Aberline's voice speaking about the journal and the attack on the outpost as our only interaction. Ronae would still not look at me.

Afterwards, we were all still tired from our fight the day before, as well as the battles we had engaged in every day since leaving Stormwind. It was if fate itself conspired against us. Following this trend, tonight something else would happen. I volunteered to keep the first watch.

I was surprised when Ronae offered to keep it with me. We sat together on the outskirts of our camp, on the bank of the Nazferiti River, looking out over the water towards the full moon. I could feel my worgen side stir inside me as the wolf yearned to run free.

"How long have you been a worgen, Alex?" I guess Ronae was speaking to me again.

"Only for two years or so. It hasn't been that long. And I am not the only one; my entire nation has been afflicted with the worgen curse, and the majority of our population now transforms into beasts."

Ronae appeared pensive. "How much of you remains? When you chance, I mean. Are you still the same Alex I met on the slopes of Mount Hyjal?"

"I am. I am still myself when I change, just slightly wilder. IT does not change one's personality, merely amplifies it. I have always been a fighter, and I hate backing down from a challenge. My wolf knows this and acts on these impulses."

Ronae finally made eye contact with me. "That is what I wished to believe, and what I had hoped you would confirm. I find myself strangely attracted to you Alex, and I needed to be sure we were not dangerous."

"Oh Ronae, of course I'm dangerous," I responded with a toothy grin. She giggled and returned to looking at the moon.

I heard something from in front of us, my enhanced worgen hearing allowing me to hear certain sounds usually unheard by most mortals. The water rippled. I rose, and beckoned Ronae to wake the others. Something was coming.

Within half a minute, Aberline and the draenei stood beside me, weapons at the ready, prepared to counter whatever the river could throw at us. Thoughts of the Faceless Ones occupied mine and Aberline's thoughts.

And our fears were confirmed. Roughly thirty of the creatures rose from the black waters as one and began approaching the shore, as if guided by some unseen hand. They halted before they could exit the water, however, and simply waited. For what, I was not sure.

Then he draenei besides me stirred. He sheathed his swords and walked towards the Faceless, who did not attack him.

"What are you doing, man? They will kill you. Prepare to defend yourself!" Aberline called out.

The draenei looked back at us and smirked. "I am fulfilling my true mission here. You should have been more suspicious of your allies after the incident with Mekka, Aberline Wolfsbane. He was not the only one among us with a hidden agenda. The Burning Legion sent me here to become an envoy to N'zoth, the Old God who rules the waves and wiped out those pathetic paladins."

"And to think I trusted you, draenei. I will tear your limbs off one at a time and present your mangled corpse to King Wrynn as a birthday present. You have aroused my anger, warrior." I had never seen Aberline this mad in a long time, his hammer held alongside his body, ready to crush a skull at a moment's notice.

On my other side, Ronae was readying her bow. I clutched my staff with both hands and prepared several healing spells for the inevitable fight.

"You have such a way with words, Aberline. I shall miss that dearly."

And then the Faceless Ones attacked. They do not charge like traditional enemies, instead lumbering at their opponents, swinging their oversized arm in an effort to crush our bones. Ronae shot several through the eyes with her arrows, while Aberline crushed a skull or two.

My companions held no care for their bodies at this point, and refused to block any attacks. Even the raptor was content to suffer several wounds as long as a head ended up between its jaws.

I rapidly prayed and slung my spells towards my companions, healing the flesh as soon as it was injured, and mending broken bones before they could cause discomfort.

Unfortunately, there seemed to be no end to our opponents. Whenever one was slain, another would rise from beneath the waters to take its place.

My companions' injuries were beginning to keep up with my ability to heal them and quickly overtook my spells. There was no end in sight.

That is, until the old man we had carried down from the outpost rose. Nodens stood behind me and an immense pressure placed itself at my peripherals. I could see that Ronae and Aberline felt the same thing. This man had power.

He lifted his arms to the skies and shouted something in a language I recognized as belonging to the Old Gods themselves. The Faceless Ones momentarily halted their attack to watch the old man.

The moon disappeared behind a massive cloud, except it wasn't a cloud. It was a swarm. Creatures more terrifying than the Faceless One's before us descended from the sky. They were roughly the size of a man, with leathery black skin covering the entire length of their body. Bat wings sprouted from their shoulders and a forked tail emerged from their lower back. Horns curled up from the tops of their heads.

But it was their faces that scared me. We call these servants of the Old Gods Faceless Ones because they do not have recognizable features, but these new creatures had a head like a man's but with no discernable features. It was as if some artist had simply erased the mouth, nose, eyes, and mouth. There was nothing there.

They swept down among the Faceless Ones, slashing out with claws and carrying some up into the air, where they used their tails to pierce the skin and rip out internal organs. The Faceless Ones fought back, but could not keep up with the speed of these creatures.

Aberline, Ronae, and I stood as still as possible on the bank of the river, unwilling to move in case these new enemies turned on us. I glanced back at Nodens, to see him wildly swinging his arms, as if conducting these creatures in their attack. His staff was planted in the ground next to him.

He met my glance and winked. He proclaimed, "Nightgaunts," and returned to his phantom orchestra.

Soon, the ranks of the Faceless were thinned and no more rose from the water to meet the challenge. But the draenei remained in the water. He drew his swords, which now burned green with fel fire, and began shouting in eredun, the language of the demons. The Nightgaunts met his challenge. He slew a few before one removed his head from his shoulders.

Within another minute, the Nightgaunts had killed the remaining Faceless Ones, and began circling overheard. I believe the battle to be over, but the water rippled again. A form rose, this time definitely human in appearance, and approached us on the bank.

It was a man with dark, amber skin, dressed in what appeared to be fine silks. It looked up us and I heard Ronae give a little yell.

The form had no eyes, but empty sockets. It began speaking in the same language Nodens had before, that of the Old Gods. Outwardly, it appeared calm, but radiated some kind of energy which I found extremely unsettling. Whispers and voices filled my ears with dark promises and threats. Ronae and Aberline beside me were feeling the same effects.

It was then that Nodens began responding to the form, in Common this time.

"N'zoth, my buddy, you should know better by now, of course I dare hunt you. It's what I do, what I enjoy in my spare time. The Nightgaunts here are simply my assistants in my old age."

The avatar of N'zoth sounded angry now.

"Oh come now, you can't really be angry about that now, you always knew your little pet would die at the hands of mortals. So you didn't count on them killing Deathwing this soon, and the Dragon Soul was a definite surprise, but does that really affect your plans at all? I have known you for eons, you don't have setbacks."

The avatar seethed, and the power it radiated grew. Nodens discourse with the Old God was only serving to antagonize it. He glanced down at the three of us and realized the power of the Old God was affecting us. With a simple wave of his hand, the whisperings disappeared and I regained full use of my faculties.

"Members of the Alliance, may I introduce N'zoth, last of the Old Gods, and my prey. You may call me Nodens. Do not ask me anymore than that, your small minds could not fathom the power and history I possess. But know that I am as old as N'zoth over there, and that I have met the Titans. Didn't like them very much, if I'm brutally honest."

The avatar of N'zoth shouted at him in its own language, and Nodens responded with a shrug. The avatar yelled again, this time in anger, and tremendous tentacles burst from the river and rushed at Nodens, no doubt intending to drag him beneath the water to drown him.

Nodens simply grasped his staff, lifted it from the ground, and drove it back in, sending of wave of magical power out. The wave collided with the tentacles and flung them back in the water. The avatar of N'zoth looked at us once more and then faded away, as if it were never there. Only the bodies of the Faceless Ones and the Nightgaunts circling over head reminded us of what had transpired.

"Alright then, I'm afraid I must be off. N'zoth is angrier than I have ever seen him, and the death of Deathwing has done nothing to help his ego. He simply cannot wait to wipe you silly mortals from this planet. I'll be seeing you."

"Wait," Aberline commanded, finally finding his voice. "Return to Stormwind with us. Your powers would be of great benefit to the Alliance. Together, we could vanquish N'zoth and rid Azeroth of the Old Gods' taint forever!"

Nodens blankly stared at Aberline, and I felt Ronae shrink from the shine in his eyes. What he said next still terrifies me. I know now that Nodens would never do anything to harm the mortal races, nor would he ever ally with the Old Gods, but he is nonetheless another nightmare, along with his Nightgaunts, capable of defeating the combined armies of the Old Gods with minimal effort.

Before disappearing to parts unknown, he asked us, "And why would I want to kill N'zoth now? The hunt just became fun."

An original by Michael Costanzo


End file.
